Kiss the Bride
by MahliaLily
Summary: She leaned back against her pillow, and he pulled away to look at her, his chin propped on his hand. She absently rotated her engagement ring on her finger. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”
1. Practice Makes Perfect

**Kiss the Bride**

**Chapter 1: Practice Makes Perfect**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Same old, same old. I own nothing… and so on and so forth. I didn't create the characters… and so on and so forth. Jess is my willing man-slave… and so on and so forth. Blah-blah!_

Shifting a few boxes out of the way, Jess wrapped his fingers around the leather handle of the suitcase and began to pull it down from the top shelf of the closet. As it neared the edge – its weight now half-resting on the shelf and half on his arms – it abruptly stopped. Struggling to maintain the awkward hold, Jess peered to the side and immediately saw that one of the suitcase's wheels was caught in the loop of an errant purse strap. With a sigh, he yanked on it harder and jiggled it back and forth, trying to loosen it from its trap. It wouldn't budge. Growing frustrated, he pulled one more time. It still didn't move. Giving in, he tried to push it back onto the shelf. It stayed rooted in place. The suitcase was stuck in midair, only his arms supporting it from falling.

The phone rang.

He cursed quietly, his limbs locked in place. It rang again.

"Rory!" he called, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Got it!"

A second later, the phone stopped mid-ring as she picked it up.

Jess took a deep breath and refocused his attention on the suitcase. Refusing to let the damn thing get the better of him, he tightened his fingers around the handle and pulled as hard as he could.

One pull.

Two pulls.

Three pulls.

Without warning, the suitcase shot off the shelf, throwing him slightly off-balance and knocking the purse to the floor with a plop.

Simultaneously relieved and annoyed, he swung the suitcase into the hallway, then stooped to retrieve the purse, flinging it carelessly back up onto the shelf. Mission at last accomplished, he shut the door, grabbed the suitcase, and headed back towards the bedroom.

As soon as he walked through the door, something round and white sailed through the air and hit him on the forehead. Rory giggled.

Jess looked down at the rolled-up pair of socks that now lay on the carpet then turned his eyes to Rory. She shrugged, her eyes twinkling.

"Nice," he stated sarcastically as he walked into the room and set the suitcase on the floor beside her.

She pouted playfully. "Sorry."

"First, that suitcase nearly kills me," he said, pointing at it accusatorily, "and then you try to maim me."

Rory glanced at the suitcase. "It apologizes too."

He flopped onto the bed and narrowed his eyes at the socks and then at her. "You're all conspiring to take me out already, aren't you?"

Rory grinned at him but didn't respond. Instead, she went back to folding the laundry.

He nodded knowingly. "Just as I suspected."

Glancing up, Rory batted her eyelashes at him in clear exaggeration.

"That isn't gonna work," Jess warned.

She smiled. "What isn't?"

"That! You could've knocked me unconscious, you know!"

"Poor baby," she cooed.

"Two inches lower, and I'd have a black eye."

"It could've been worse," she offered.

"Really?"

"Yep," she nodded seriously. "It could've been a swan."

"Oh, sure, mock my pain. I knew I'd regret telling you that."

Rory met his eyes. "Come here."

"Why? Planning to strangle me with my own shirt sleeves?"

"Come here," she repeated, crooking her finger at him.

"You're crazy! No way!"

She sighed. "You're very grumpy, you know that?"

"It's your fault!" he reminded her.

"Grumpy, grumpy," she teased, pushing the suitcase and laundry basket out of her way. Path cleared, she crawled across the floor towards him. When she reached his bent legs, she rested her hands gently on his legs and guided his knees apart until there was enough room for her to ease herself between them. Now face to face, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Then, looking him straight in the eye, her face serious, she whispered, "I'm very sorry the vicious socks hurled themselves at you."

He couldn't help but smirk. "I can't believe I'm marrying you tomorrow," he half-joked.

Rory smiled back. "Me either. You must be crazy."

"I think we both are."

"You might be right," Rory quietly agreed before leaning forward and placing a light kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, he opened his eyes to look at her. "Still grumpy?" she teased.

"I was never grumpy."

"Yes, you were," she disagreed.

He slowly shook his head. "Nope, never was," he repeated, finding her lips again.

As they kissed, he trailed his fingers up her bare arms, sending ticklish shivers across her skin. When she felt him trying to guide her even closer, she smiled against his mouth and pulled away. "I have to pack."

He sighed and moved to lean back on his palms. Fighting the temptation his new position offered, Rory looked away and scooted back over to the laundry and luggage. He watched as she folded the clothes and placed them carefully into the suitcase. As she packed, she crossed items off from a list on the floor, making sure all of their things were included. After a few minutes, everything was neatly stowed away. She eyed the list, frowned, and glanced around the room.

"I need those socks," she said, turning her eyes to Jess.

"So?"

She made a half-hearted attempt to stretch towards them. "Can't… reach."

"Huh. Guess you shouldn't have thrown them at me then."

"Jess," she whined.

"Rory," he mocked.

She looked back down at her list, clearly agitated that every item wasn't in the suitcase.

He chuckled and stood up. "You're so Type A," he teased, grabbing the socks from the floor.

He handed them to her, and she took them gratefully. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She grinned and packed them away, then zipped up the suitcase. Pushing it to the side, she grabbed a different list off the bedside table and started scanning down it.

Jess smirked and snatched it from her hands.

"Hey," Rory complained, trying to grab it back. He held it out of her reach.

"Laundry," he read. "Check. Pack. Check. Liz. Liz?" he asked, looking at her.

"Oh, that was the phone call. She and TJ made it safe and sound."

Jess said nothing, his eyes turning back to the list.

"Oh, and Paris is on her way to get Jimmy, Sasha, and Lily at the airport," Rory added.

Jess smirked.

"I can't believe I let you convince me that was a good idea," Rory said, trying to hide her amusement. "They're gonna drive each other crazy."

"Better them than us."

"Paris is gonna kill me."

"Jimmy is gonna kill me."

Rory grinned. "We'll be dead together."

Jess trailed his eyes over her face. "Works for me."

"Me too," she agreed.

He looked at the list again. "Well, assuming they make it back from the airport alive, that makes Jimmy a check." He moved to the next item. "Your family?"

"Dad and Gigi are staying at the Dragonfly. So are my grandma and grandpa."

Jess paused, reality setting in. He sighed. "This screams disaster."

"No, it doesn't," Rory promised.

"Yeah, it does. Let's elope. There's still time."

Rory smiled. "It'll be fine."

"I hear Vegas is beautiful this time of year."

"It'll be fine," she repeated.

"Liz and Jimmy—"

"Will be on their best behavior," Rory finished.

"Your mom and dad—"

"Know better."

"Richard and Emily—"

"Have grown to love you."

"Marianos and Gilmores in the same room."

"It'll be fine."

"It's against God's will."

"It'll be fine."

Jess ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Since when do you worry?" Rory teased.

He looked at her. "Well, you really want this all to work."

"Are you still planning to be there?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "So far."

"Then it'll be fine."

He nodded, still not quite convinced, and looked at the list. A slow smile spread across his face. "What's this?"

"What's what?"

"Kiss?" he asked, pointing at the item.

Rory blushed.

"You put _kiss_ on the checklist?" he teased. "Afraid you'd forget?"

"No," Rory said weakly.

"We're not even married yet, and my sex appeal is already fading."

Rory blushed even more. "Trust me, it's not."

He met her eyes and smirked. "Good to know," he answered seriously. Then, deciding to let her off the hook, he looked back down at the list. "Well, we kissed a few minutes ago, and it's only on here once, so I guess that's a check."

Rory fixed her eyes on the carpet. "It's not for today."

Now he was confused. "Okay—" he hedged, watching her shift uncomfortably.

"It's just – I'm just – I don't know how to kiss you!" she blurted, her cheeks turning red.

Jess smirked. "You don't? 'Cuz you did just fine a min—"

"No, I mean, tomorrow," Rory interrupted. "I don't know how to kiss you _tomorrow_."

"What?"

"At the altar," Rory explained. "We'll be up there in front of all of those people, and the kiss is the climactic moment. It means we're really married. It's important and special and intimate and really embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

"Yes! Everyone is staring and waiting! It's too much pressure. How do people know how to kiss in that moment?"

Jess shrugged. "They just do, I guess."

"What if I forget how?"

He laughed. "Rory, you're not going to forget how."

"Fine," she dismissed. "Never mind. It's stupid."

"Rory…"

"Cross it off."

Shoving the list into his pocket, he walked towards her and reached out his hand. She glanced at it but didn't move.

"Come on. Stand up," he prodded, wiggling his fingers.

Reluctantly, she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. He placed his hands on her waist and guided her into position until she was standing directly in front of him.

She stared at her feet.

"Try to look happier," he teased. "We're about to get married."

She glanced up at him.

"The minister," he said, gesturing at empty air. Then, motioning towards the open space behind them, he continued, "Family and friends. Look around. This is the real deal."

Her lips curled up a little.

"The big moment," he teased. "Don't choke."

"I hate you."

He smirked but ignored her statement. "Here it comes… I now pronounce you husband and wife," he stated in an overly deep, very formal voice. When Rory just stood there, he whispered, "Go for it."

She smiled and, taking a quick step forward, placed a brief peck on his lips.

"Oh, so we're going the chaste route," Jess teased.

Rory threw her hands into the air. "See! I'm gonna mess it up!" she cried, turning to move away from him.

"No, no, you're fine," he assured her, guiding her back into position. "Here, try again. Husband, wife, yadda, yadda."

This time, Rory moved forward and kissed him a little longer. She stepped back.

"See, better," Jess assured her.

Rory frowned. "This is so dumb."

He reached out and pulled her a little closer. "How 'bout I just take the lead? That's how it's supposed to go, right?"

Feigning disinterest, Rory shrugged.

Without any prelude, Jess placed his hand on her cheek and kissed her. And suddenly it was easy. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the feel of him, the familiar taste of him. Her stomach fluttered. After a couple moments, he pulled away, and she lazily opened her eyes and met his. Seeing a familiar, smoky glint in their blue depths, he immediately kissed her again, his free arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her fully against him. She let her hand rest against his hip. He deepened the kiss.

Lost in him, she inched her hand up under the hem of his shirt, her fingers fluttering against his warm, bare skin. He moaned and tangled his tongue with hers, the back of her tank top bunching in his clenched fist. Aimless, her hands brushed against the elastic of his boxers then onto his abdomen again. He smiled and let his lips drift to her neck, placing small kisses along the soft skin he found there.

She sighed and, suddenly frustrated, gripped the bottom of his shirt and yanked it up over his chest. He moved away from her just long enough for it to slide over his head, then joined his lips to hers again. Hands against bare skin, legs bumping as they shuffled blindly backwards, they sank onto the bed.

- - -

Rory grinned and trailed kisses along the angle of his jaw, following its line until she reached his earlobe. She bit it gently.

Shifting to his side, Jess wrapped his arms around her, following the rise and fall of her spine with his fingers.

"I love you," she whispered, so close that her breath tickled the tiny hairs above his ear.

He smiled and kissed her shoulder. "We might want to tone that kiss down tomorrow," he mumbled.

She laughed in agreement.

His lips dipped into the space behind her ear, brushing faintly across the hidden skin. "I love you too," he whispered.

She leaned back against her pillow, and he pulled away to look at her, his chin propped on his hand. She absently rotated her engagement ring on her finger. "We're getting married tomorrow."

"I know."

"Are you scared?" she asked, her voice serious.

He fell back against his pillow. "Terrified."

She nodded. "Me too."

He sighed, well aware that her happiness would now rest almost entirely in his hands. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned to look at her. She smiled at him, and he realized immediately that he'd die trying to live up to what she deserved. It was all he could do.

"We'd better get ready for the rehearsal dinner," she reminded him.

He nodded, and she moved to get up. Grabbing a robe, she pulled it on and walked around the bed towards the bathroom. As she passed his side of the bed, he reached out for her, his hand wrapping gently around her wrist. "Rory."

She looked down at him, and he pulled her towards the bed until she was sitting. Her eyes met his, searching his face. Propping himself on one arm, he pushed up towards her. Understanding, she met him halfway. After a long moment, they separated, lips tingling.

Smiling, Rory brushed a stray curl from his forehead. "Promise we'll do it just like that."

He promised.


	2. Nervous

**Kiss the Bride**

**Chapter Two: Nervous**

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter 1._

**_A/N: _**_This chapter is dedicated to **Dani** for helping me smile again._

A thick cloud of steam drifted out the bathroom door as Jess pulled it open and stepped into the bedroom. He paused as his eyes fell on Rory. He watched as she gracefully fastened the tiny buckle on her black Mary Jane before letting his gaze drift up her long legs and over the flowing lines of her dress until it came to rest, at last, on her face.

"You look nice," he said simply.

She glanced over at him and smiled, blushing a little. "Thank you." She rose from the end of the bed, her shoulder-length curls shifting to frame her face. "You look wet," she stated, walking towards him.

He ran a hand through his hair, sending small drops of water onto his shoulders. "Yeah, guess I better get moving."

She closed the gap between them and placed a small kiss on his lips. "You smell nice," she whispered, breathing in his soapy, clean scent.

He smirked. "Good to know the shower worked."

She grinned and rested her forehead against his. He shivered, her cool skin a marked contrast to the overheated warmth the shower had just rained down on him. She smiled, proud to make him shiver for once. It was usually the other way around.

He made a motion to pull her closer, but she backed away, well aware that he was dripping wet.

His lips shifted into an exaggerated frown, which only caused her to smile more. "Get dressed," she ordered as she headed over to her dresser.

"Despot," he called after her.

She turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling at the memory. "I loved pushing you down those stairs."

"Yeah, I know," he retorted, grabbing his pants from the closet. "It was your version of pulling my hair. Very kindergarten."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a bottle of perfume, spritzing it on the pulse points of her wrist and neck.

"No argument, huh?" he asked, turning to face her. He pulled on his shirt and started fastening its buttons.

She shrugged noncommitally and ran a brush through her hair.

"Very interesting," he remarked. "So you _did_ like me then? I always wondered."

The corners of Rory's mouth turned up into a tiny smile.

"And again, no denial. Huh." He rolled up his cuffs as he walked across the room. Reaching her, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed the slope of her shoulder and smiled at her in the mirror's reflection.

She sighed happily and leaned back against him. "What is much?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"I think that was the exact moment."

He smirked. "That early? If I'd known that, I wouldn't have tried so hard."

She nudged his stomach gently with her elbow. "What about you?"

"I'm still waiting," he teased.

Her mouth fell open. He smiled and pulled away, so he could put on his shoes.

She turned to look at him, waiting for him to give her an answer. He didn't.

"You're really not gonna tell me?" she asked, slightly irritated.

"Nope."

"Jess…"

"Nope."

"Fine," she said tersely, marching to the table to retrieve her purse. Sliding it over her shoulder, she looked at him. "Are you going to dry your hair?"

He ran his fingers through it, fluffing it up a little. It was drying quickly, and he knew she liked it natural these days. "Nope."

"My grandmother is gonna hate it."

"Darn," Jess said sarcastically.

It usually amused her that he pretended not to care but not today. Her lips formed a straight line. "Fine, we better go."

She had to walk by him to get to the door, and as she did, he reached out and stopped her.

"Hey, when did this become a fight?" he asked, confused.

"It isn't," she said unconvincingly. "You're ready, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Great." She tried to pull out of his grasp so they could leave, but he tightened his hold just enough to keep her in place.

She sighed. "Jess, we're gonna be late."

"It's our party. Who cares?"

"I do."

"This is a fight," he stated.

"No, it isn't."

"Yeah, it is."

"Then it's a good thing you already have a suitcase packed," she quipped angrily.

He released his grip, and her arm fell limply to her side. He nodded, his jaw tightening. "Right," he mumbled, his eyes darting to the ground.

"Jess," she said softly.

He looked up. "What are we thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"We're getting married, Rory. Tomorrow."

"I know."

"And you still think I'm gonna leave?"

"No."

"You must."

"I don't," she disagreed.

"I've been here for _four_ years," he defended.

"I don't think you're going to leave," she said honestly.

"Then why did you say it?"

She frowned. "I knew it would hurt you."

"Great," he said flatly.

"When did you fall in love with me?" she asked again, not sure why she was so desperate for an answer.

"Why does it matter?"

"It just does."

He sighed. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

He shook his head in frustration. "No."

Rory felt a dull pain behind her eyes. "How can you not know?"

"Because I don't, Rory," he shouted. Then, after a long beat of silence, he added gently, "It just happened."

"Okay," she said softly.

He looked away, recognizing the familiar quiver in her voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fold her arms protectively over her chest. He took a deep breath and turned back to her. "Rory…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He nodded and walked over to her, taking her hands in his and unfolding them. "Don't cry."

She sniffled and nodded, fighting back her tears. He bent his knees a little, searching for her eyes. When they finally connected with his, he explained softly, "It's just – I," he sighed, searching for the words that would make her understand. "I didn't know what love was until I met you. I have no idea how long it was there before I knew what it was."

"Well, when did you realize what it was?" she asked.

He hesitated, trying to pinpoint the moment. "When I came back from California, and you took off running."

She bit her bottom lip gently, a nervous habit.

He smiled a little. "If it helps, as soon as I realized, I told you."

She nodded, remembering. "And then you left."

His smile faded. "I had to. Everything was a mess."

She guided his arms around her waist and drew him close. "I know," she mouthed silently. Then, as a single, uncontrolled tear rolled down her cheek, she found his lips with hers. He squeezed her hands gently and returned the kiss.

After several long moments, they drew apart, and Rory dropped her head into the crook of his shoulder. They stood still, arms entwined around one another.

Slowly, Rory loosened her grip and pulled back. Searching his brown eyes for any sign of doubt, she said carefully, "I know you're not going to leave."

He nodded. "I'm not."

"I'm sorry."

"Okay," he accepted.

She looked at him desperately. "Please say you still want to marry me."

"You still want to marry me," he teased.

She smiled. "I do."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Just tell me this fight that isn't really a fight is over."

She grinned and glanced up. "I like your hair like that."

"Emily doesn't," he reminded her.

She shrugged. "I don't care."

He smirked. "We better go."

She took his arm and wrapped it more tightly around her waist. "Let's go."

- - -

They pulled up outside the restaurant, and Jess turned off the engine. Neither of them moved. After a long pause, he reached over and softly massaged Rory's knee. She leaned against the headrest and turned her head to look at him.

"Let's elope."

He chuckled. "I _really_ wish you meant that."

"Maybe I do."

He smiled. "No, you don't. You want your mom there, and your dad, and Luke and Taylor and Miss Patty."

"And even Kirk," she added.

"We invited Kirk?"

"We invited Kirk," she said matter-of-factly.

"That'll make things interesting."

Rory reached down and took his hand in hers. "That was the nerves talking back there."

He ran his thumb across her hand. "I know that."

"I ruined our last moment alone as singles."

He smirked. "We were never very good at that anyway."

She sighed. "The next time we're alone together, we'll be married."

"Lorelai Leigh Mariano," he drawled.

"It sounds nice."

"We better get in there," Jess said, looking at the restaurant with dread.

Rory grinned. "Deep breath."

Together, they inhaled, held the breath, and exhaled loudly.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be."

Releasing her hand, he got out of the car and walked around to open her door. Her hand slid comfortably into his as she got out, and they headed into the restaurant.

Moments later, the expected din greeted them, and they were pulled in opposite directions.


	3. Rehearse, Rehearse, Rehearse

**Kiss the Bride**

**Chapter 3: Rehearse, Rehearse, Rehearse**

**A/N:** I wrote this chapter a long time ago but couldn't post it because my account was temporarily suspended. I finally remembered that it had never been put up. Here it is. Thanks, Becka.

As soon as they entered the room, Paris appeared at their side with a determined look on her face. "Hi Jess," she said tersely. "Can I borrow Rory for a second?" Before he could answer, she grabbed Rory's arm and led her away. "Great, thanks," she called over her shoulder.

Slightly dazed, Rory shot Jess an apologetic look as Paris dragged her to the other end of the restaurant's special events room. Jess widened his eyes a little, suggesting she was the one in trouble, not him. She gave him a small grin in response then disappeared into the crowd.

Steeling himself in preparation for the impending social interaction, he glanced around the room. He noticed Miss Patty hanging out with the waiters in the far left corner and immediately vetoed that as a destination. In another corner, Taylor, Luke, and Kirk seemed to be engaged in some sort of argument. He was definitely not heading that way. Quite a few feet away, he spotted Lane and her boyfriend Charlie sitting at one of the tables. Judging them as the least of the evils, he moved in their direction. He'd gotten about two feet when a pint-sized body darted in front of him. Catching himself before he tripped, he frowned. He glanced to his left in time to see Sookie's 3-year-old daughter, Ella, chasing after her brother. He rolled his eyes and made an immediate decision to stay right where he was; if people wanted to talk to him, they could talk to him, but it wasn't like he had to inflict the torture on himself.

"Good evening, Jess," a voice primly stated from behind him. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. _Next time, move Mariano!_ he reprimanded himself.

Slowly, he turned to face Rory's grandmother. "Emily," he greeted. Then, glancing at Rory's grandfather, he added, "Richard."

"Sorry we're late," Emily said. "We couldn't seem to find the valet."

"Actually, there isn't a valet," Jess replied.

"There isn't?" Emily asked in mock-surprise. "Why, surely a fine restaurant such as this one would have a valet. How else are the drunken football fans supposed to find their cars?"

Sarcastic retort at the ready, Jess opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Richard.

"I like this restaurant," he decided, glancing around. "A little local color is good for the soul."

"Of course you'd think so," Emily dismissed. "I suppose when I can't find you later tonight, I'll know where to look."

Richard gave Jess a knowing smile. "Maybe we should find Rory, Emily."

"Yes, I suppose we should," she agreed.

Richard nodded. "We'll see you later, Jess."

Without another word from Emily, they turned and headed away. As they left, however, Emily stage-whispered to Richard, "I hope he'll at least _try_ to find a comb in time for the ceremony tomorrow."

Jess smiled. Mission accomplished.

- - -

After losing eye contact with Jess, Rory turned her attention to Paris.

"So," she was saying loudly. "Jess's father was interesting."

"Oh, sorry about that," Rory apologized. "You were the only one available and…"

"No, it's fine. I'm a bridesmaid," Paris argued. "It's what bridesmaids do. We wear ugly dresses and uncomfortable shoes. We march up and down a narrow aisle while complete strangers stare at us and decide that we're either smiling too much or too little. We throw parties where scantily clad Neanderthals thrust their pelvises in our faces and then get drunk and sob and whine about how they're just stripping for the money and they feel so used. As if they couldn't just suck it up and get a job at McDonald's."

"I thought you liked Harry," Rory interjected.

"Well, sure, what's not to like about a man who not only strips for money but apparently has made it his personal mission to actually _become_ his name?"

"Hey, he admitted he was due for a wax," Rory contested.

"Could we please not discuss Harry? I'm already nauseous."

"Was Jimmy really that bad?"

"No, not at all," Paris said, shaking her head. "The whole experience was very insightful."

"It was?"

"Sure," Paris nodded. "We played the license plate game, and he regaled me with stories of his California hot dog stand. I can't imagine a better way to spend my time. Although after awhile, I did regret canceling my plans to drive shish kabob skewers into my ears."

"I'm sorry," Rory apologized again.

Paris looked at her. "Well, on the bright side, you'll be happy to know I have a new appreciation of Jess."

"Yeah?"

"It turns out if you take into account the genes he has to contend with, he's actually pretty smart."

Rory smiled. "I'll be sure to tell him that."

- - -

"Here he is!" Jimmy called, jabbing his finger in the air above Jess's head while he looked across the room. Catching his eye, Sasha nodded and started to make her way over.

Jess rolled his eyes and turned to face his father. Jimmy flashed him a wide, fake smile.

"Look at you," he teased his son through clenched teeth. "You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

"You look like a slacker version of the Joker," Jess pointed out.

"This is my 'mingling with high society' face," Jimmy explained.

"Designed to scare small children and get the rich ladies to hand over their purses?" Jess asked.

"Something like that."

"Huh. I gotta give that a try."

Jimmy nodded, the smile still plastered across his face.

"You can stop now," Jess stated.

Jimmy shook his head. "Can't. Stop."

"Fine," Jess accepted. "How about I just make it a little easier on you?" he offered, scooting around to slap Jimmy on the back.

Immediately, the smile fell from his face. "Hey, that isn't funny! You do realize that could make my face stay that way, don't you?"

"Kinda the point," Jess whispered through the side of his mouth.

"Hey now, I'm your father," Jimmy argued.

"Honey," Sasha interrupted, stopping beside him and rubbing his back. "Not always your best defense." Turning to Jess, she pulled him into a tight hug. "How the hell are you, kiddo?"

Jess awkwardly returned her hug. "Good."

She pulled away and gave him a once-over. "Yeah? You look good. Really good."

He gave her a small smile.

"Where's that fiancée of yours?"

Jess instinctively glanced around for Rory. "Probably being verbally throttled by Paris."

"Yeah, that girl's a little tightly wound," Jimmy agreed.

Jess turned his eyes to Sasha. "How bad was it?"

She shrugged. "We were on our best behavior."

"And?" Jess pushed, wanting to know how much trouble Rory was in.

"And she hated us."

"Hated or despised?" Jess tried to clarify.

"I'd say hated," Sasha hedged. She eyed Jimmy, and he nodded in agreement.

Jess shrugged. "So, not so bad then."

"Nope, not so bad," Sasha smiled.

Jess glanced behind them. "Where's Lily?"

"Coat room," Sasha answered.

Jess nodded.

There was an awkward silence, and then he added quickly, "I'm just gonna—"

Sasha nodded and stepped aside. "Go ahead. We'll track down Rory. Right, hon?"

Jimmy plastered the smile back on his face and nodded. "Sounds good."

With an amused grin, Jess walked past them and out the door.

-- -

"Ah, there you are," Lorelai exclaimed, sneaking up behind her daughter and Paris. "I was beginning to think you and Jess were off knocking boots somewhere."

Rory's cheeks reddened. "Mom."

"Oh, sorry," Lorelai apologized. "How about this?" she offered, measuring her words carefully. "I thought you two might be engaging in your last round of immoral, premarital relations. There. Better?"

"We weren't."

"I see that," Lorelai agreed. "But lemme tell you, there is a very nice coat closet right outside." She nudged Rory in the side and waggled her eyebrows. "It has the Luke Danes seal of approval."

Rory wrinkled her nose. "I did not need to know that."

"What? He's a very picky man. He doesn't just do it anywhere."

"Oh my god," Rory exclaimed, looking to Paris for some backup. She just smirked.

Lorelai held her hands up innocently. "I'm just trying to give you a little head's up."

Rory folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. Thank you."

"So you can get the big head up," Lorelai finished with a giggle.

"In two seconds, I'm going to sic Grandma on you," Rory warned.

"Fine, fine," Lorelai agreed. "But where is Beezlebub anyway?"

"Grandma is over there with Grandpa and Sookie."

"Good to know," Lorelai nodded. "But I meant your Beezlebub."

"Stop calling him that," Rory lightly reprimanded.

"He doesn't like cake, Rory. He's the devil."

"Jess doesn't like cake?" Paris asked.

"For the last time, Jess likes cake!" Rory exclaimed.

"No, he doesn't," Lorelai disagreed.

"You made him spend four hours taste-testing wedding cakes, Mom. It would make anyone sick."

"I didn't get sick," Lorelai reminded her.

"You are a freak of nature."

"You didn't get sick."

"You raised me."

"Sookie didn't get sick. Ella, a small child with a teeny-tiny stomach, did not get sick," Lorelai prattled off.

"Jess does not hate cake," Rory huffed.

"I don't know, honey. Are you sure this is the man you want to marry? You know what they say about a guy who can't hold his cake."

"What?" Rory asked. "What do they say about a guy who can't hold his cake?"

"Uh, well, they say that he hates cake," Lorelai stated, as if it were obvious.

A small smile crept across Rory's face. "That's very profound."

"Thank you," Lorelai accepted, wrapping an arm around her daughter. "God, I'm going to miss this."

"There's nothing to miss."

"You promise you're going to come over and let me torture you?"

"I promise."

"On a weekly basis?"

"If not more," Rory vowed.

"Even though you're going to be an old married woman with a husband to keep satisfied?"

"Actually," Paris interjected. "Statistically speaking, sex becomes less frequent after marriage, so Rory should have more time for other activities."

Lorelai grinned. "I love this girl," she said, wrapping her other arm around Paris.

- - -

Jess pulled open the door to the coat room and glanced inside. Immediately, he spotted Lily sitting beneath the rows of coats, her legs stretched out in front of her and a copy of 'Wuthering Heights' in her hands.

He smirked. "Haven't you read that before?"

A smile spread across her face as she looked up. "About a million times."

"There's a lot of other books out there, you know."

"Says the guy who's reread his collection of about 50 books more times than I can count."

He nodded. "You look older. I almost didn't recognize you."

She grinned proudly. "You look the same."

He shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes at him and looked him up and down. "Except happy. Really happy. It's kinda freaking me out."

He chuckled. "Me too."

"Well, I say, 'go with it.'"

"I'll keep that in mind," he agreed. "So, you don't feel the need to socialize?"

She shrugged. "I learned from the best."

"Hey, at least I'm trying," he teased.

"Which explains why you're hiding in the coat closet."

He smirked.

"I just wanted to finish this chapter," she explained. "I tried in the car, but Paris and Jimmy's arguing was kind of distracting."

"Okay, I'll leave you to it then," he promised, turning towards the door.

"Jess…," Lily called.

He glanced back at her.

"When I was little, I always wanted a brother."

He nodded. "I think I heard that once."

She bit her lip and looked down at her book. "Even though I don't see you very much, I'm glad I got you." She shrugged. "I just wanted you to know that."

He hesitated, causing her to look up.

"You're not so bad yourself," he offered.

She smiled.

"Okay," he stated. "I'll let you get back to your book."

Closing it, she rose to her feet. "On second thought, I guess if you can try, I can try," she said, trailing after him.

He waited for her to catch up. "If you can't take it anymore, let me know. I have a practically unnoticeable paperback you can borrow."

She glanced up at him. "You might want to give that to me now."

With a knowing smirk, he handed it over.

- - -

As Jess and Lily exited the coat room, they nearly ran into Rory.

"Oh," she exclaimed, catching her breath after the sudden surprise. "There you are."

"Hey," Jess said softly.

"Hi Rory," Lily greeted with a wide smile. Immediately, she stepped forward and pulled Rory into a hug.

Rory smiled and hugged her back tightly. "Did you get the books I sent you?" she asked, moving away.

"I already read them," Lily exclaimed.

"Wow! That's great."

"I loved them, especially the poetry collection."

Rory nudged Jess in the ribs and grinned. "I told you she had some taste."

He wrapped his arm around her waist but didn't say anything.

"I'm thinking of submitting a poem for this contest at school," Lily went on. "Do you think you could read it and tell me what you think?"

"Definitely," Rory agreed. "I'll make sure they put you next to me at the table, and you can show me then."

"Great," Lily cheered. She pointed at the door. "Should we go inside?"

"We'll be right there," Rory said. "I need to talk to Jess about something."

Lily glanced at the door again and then sent a desperate look in Jess's direction.

"Find Lane," he suggested. "She's your safest bet."

She nodded and darted into the room.

Once she was gone, Jess turned to Rory. "What did you nee—"

Before he could finish, her lips were pressed to his. He tightened his hold on her waist and pulled her close, taking control.

After a long moment, she pulled away and smiled.

Recognizing the look, he narrowed his eyes at her. "What's going on?"

With a small shrug, she joined their lips together again and started inching him backwards toward the door.

"Rory," he mumbled against her mouth as he felt his back smack against the wooden frame.

She reached past him, fumbling along the door for the handle. Once her hand wrapped around it, she pushed, and they stumbled backwards into the room, letting the door slip closed behind them.

Regaining his balance and then steadying Rory, Jess raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously. What's up with you?"

She traced her fingers along the buttons of his dress shirt and, reaching the top, started to undo them. "I've heard good things about this coat room."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, turning his gaze down to where her hands were slowly and carefully unfastening each button.

Reaching the last button, she ran her hands back up along the bare skin of his chest and fluidly pushed the shirt off his shoulders. "Yeah," she whispered.

He smiled and ran his fingers along the outsides of her arms. "Guess we'll have to test it out then," he whispered back, covering her lips with his as he lowered the straps of her dress.


End file.
